


jealousy.

by themissinglenk



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin
Genre: Dicks, M/M, Real Life, Smut, from tumblr, i miss you smut, prompt, smuttiest smut i've written in a smutting long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 09:51:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themissinglenk/pseuds/themissinglenk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t okay to be jealous of how quick your boyfriend could get it up and keep it up. // from tumblr, open prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	jealousy.

It wasn’t okay to be jealous of how quick your boyfriend could get it up and keep it up.

Well—it didn’t take much for Jean’s pants to get tight, actually. The slip of a loose T-shirt, offering a chance glimpse of the hot skin above a Hanes waistband. The pull of a perfect pale mouth on the filter of a Camel 99, bony knuckles and bitten-down nails flicking cigarette ash to the side. The way Eren looked at the bus stop on a particularly soggy day, the picture of doom and gloom hunched into his giant toggle coat, smothered by aviator cap and flannel scarf. The tiny coccyx dip between dimpled ass and staircase of a spine where Jean’s hand fit perfectly when Eren was snuggled up to his chest like a cat. The smell of Eren straight out of the shower, damp hair and AXE body soap and fresh spritz of expensive cologne. The tickle of Eren nibbling at his earlobe, breathing impatient sighs against sensitive skin. And that specific shade of Jäger temper tantrum where Eren was just too adorable to get on Jean’s nerves, sitting cross-legged with a bowl of cereal in wrinkled (borrowed) shorts, Morning After hickey and sex hair glory.

Tuesday night, 23:57. Light from the tiny old television on Jean’s dresser, bouncing around the messy room. Turning the shadows blue. EUS 201, _Intro to Russian Civilization_ with that notorious professor in the morning—the short one, who would pass you immediately if you made him crack a smile just once. Work after school. Dinner with parents, after-dinner bar run with friends.

“You better not be trying to take advantage of my baby brother drunk, Kirschtein.”

“Ha! Mikasa, he doesn’t have to be drunk for that to happen.”

“Jesus fuck, Jean—”

“Well, you’re sort of a slut, Eren.”

“ _Armin_ —”

“Armin, are you doing the art museum with Marco this weekend?”

“Yeah. Reiner’s coming, too. He doesn’t know what to do with himself with Bert out of town.”

Mattress squeaking under the weight of two bodies sharing the same shadow on the wall. Steamy round of tonsil hockey transitioning into wide hungry bruising kisses, strings of spit snapping between tongues (with the vague hint of booze still at the back of the teeth, and shy burps against the shoulder with a sheepish snort and apologetic snicker). Bodies rocking. Hips knocking. Grinding dick on dick, stiff heat behind the torturously easy barrier of thin cotton.

“ _Unh_ —”

“Shit…”

Eren’s thigh was perfect dizzying bliss against Jean’s hard-on. Couldn’t think straight. Ecstasy sparked from curling toes to twitching fingertips. Goosebumps, dancing down bare arms. Wrestling to kiss, nip, smirk on the tattoos on Eren’s inner arms. Da Vinci’s anatomical heart, a hippie little moon. Eren groaned, embarrassed (in the cute blushing way).

“Touch me—please—I’m so fucking hard—”

Shorts yanked down to the ankles. Nervous gasps. Nervous flutter of lashes. Nervous laughter, nuzzle of noses. Leg cramps. Wiping excess lube off on the sheets. Thighs sticky, knees twitching, insides rolling on your fingers. Mouth hot and wet. Intoxicating. Deep throat. Back arching. Wishing you’d maybe shaved down there yesterday instead of three days ago. Oops. Sorry, baby.

“So… Are we actually gonna do it this time, or what?”

Jean froze. Eren was a silhouette with the flashing light of the muted television behind him, sitting up straddled and idly drumming his knuckles on Jean’s naked chest. Could he feel Jean’s heart pounding? Had he no shame at all, asking a question so casually after Jean had just done what had seemed unthinkable only a few months prior— _unthinkable_ meaning playing the Doctor in the good old-fashioned Bend Over and Cough?

“What do you mean, ‘actually gonna do it?’” Jean croaked. “We’ve done this plenty of times.”

Eren rolled his hips down in response. Tantalizing heat, right there, behind his balls, _ungh_ , thrust—

“ _All the way_ ,” Eren whispered gravely, eyes wide and lit by the reflection of the television in the window over Jean’s bed.

Just the suggestion sparked a covetous shudder. Jean swallowed a heated moan. His dick throbbed. _All the way_. All the way. Allthewayallthewayalltheway _INSIDEfuck_ —

Jean thought, _I’ve never wanted something more in my life and I don’t know when that happened._

What he mumbled was, “Sure, I guess, whatever. We can try it.”

 _Try_ being the operative word, a condom was dug out from the bottom drawer of Jean’s dresser, the drawer of randomly useful and sometimes forgotten things. Shy glances. Avoiding seeing each other naked and erect and ready to go _all the way_ in the half-light of the TV because that would be just too lewd, too intimidating—

“Do we need to use lube _and_ a condom? Or does just the condom work?”

“Fuck if I know, you’d think one or the other would work fine…”

“It’s just—Armin says even spit is fine, but bare-backing it is pretty rough.”

“ _You’ve talked to Armin about this shit?_ ”

“I figured I’d ask someone who knows what the hell they’re talking about!”   

“Jesus Christ.”

“Is it on?”

“It’s on.”

Eren really liked it—that is, once Jean managed to get all the way in. That is, once he stopped with the, “Ow—ow— _ow_ , Jean—” And Jean thought, _I’m really fucking Eren_. Slap of skin, hip bones biting into sensitive flesh. Eren rode him slow and hard, every twitch of his hips driving Jean in deep—tight heat throbbing around him— Eren’s skin was fever-hot. He was sticky under Jean’s thumbs. He was flushed pink and stiff, and Jean wondered was it really that good, penetration? Having someone drill your insides thick and swollen?

Eren stopped. He looked down, confusion darkening his face. “Hey,” he husked, “you’re not making any noises.”

Shit.

“A-ah—I’m sorry—hey, don’t look at me like that—”

“Does it not feel good?”

“No, it does, I just—”

“You’re not as hard anymore.”

Jean threw a pillow over his own face and hoped if he breathed deep enough, he might actually smother himself. When Eren shifted, Jean felt every movement from inside him. _Fucking weird_. No, don’t go—don’t leave—

Eren threw the dirty condom in the wire trash can near Jean’s desk. “What’s wrong?”

Jean chucked the pillow and sought out Eren’s eyes, desperately. They were glazed over with a sad sort of desire and the guilt stabbed Jean right through the heart. “I’m just nervous,” he hissed. “I’m fucking nervous, okay? I can’t keep it up when I’m nervous. I guess I get distracted worrying about other things. Like if I’m doing a good job. Like if you like it. Like if you’re grossed out. Like…”

“Obviously I liked it,” Eren moaned between his teeth, and half of it was fucking sexy as hell and the other half was that shade of temper tantrum that never failed to send Jean head over heels. Complete with grumpy eye-roll, too. What guy in their right mind wanted to sacrifice their macho pride by saying they liked riding someone else?

“I’m just _jealous_ ,” Jean spat, finally finding the right words.

Eren was quiet for a long time, hooded eyes burning into him. Jean searched for his pillow shield again, but it was across the room. Fuck.

“Jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“You want _me_ to…do that to _you_?”

“No, I—I mean, I—oh, Jesus H. Christ, I’m just jealous you can keep it up so easy when we’re trying something new! Don’t you get anxious at _all_ , Eren?”

When Jean had first met Eren, he’d been jealous of Eren’s cat. Which was perfectly acceptable for a third grader to be jealous of, right? His parents wouldn’t let him have a pet.

When Jean had been in middle school and trying very hard to be exactly what boys were supposed to be, he’d been jealous of all of Eren’s sister’s boyfriends (whatever a boyfriend was in seventh grade), because he really wanted to hold Eren’s sister’s hand and smell her hair and spend his allowance taking her to movies on Friday nights.

And then there was soccer camp the summer between sophomore and junior year—and the things he did with Marco—and Eren’s cold shoulder after, and the fights Eren picked after, and Eren’s accidental confession after under the bleachers during a pep rally and Jean realized that Eren was _jealous_ of Jean’s experimentation with Marco because Eren wanted to experiment with _Jean_.

 _Those_ were all normal things to be jealous of. _This_ was just fucking embarrassing and ridiculous.

Eren pressed a palm to Jean’s chest, like he wanted to check how hard and fast Jean’s heart was pounding. “Idiot…” he whispered. “Meanwhile, _I’ve_ been jealous of how long you last.”

“Sorry—” Jean gasped. “Sorry for stopping halfway—”

“It’s okay. That just means we can try again some other night.”

“Don’t think you can pull that shit on me, you hear me?”

“I know. You haven’t even let me get a finger in you yet…”

“ _Eren—!_ ”

Eren laughed, and it was probably the most beautiful thing Jean had ever seen or heard. His fingers knotted in Eren’s hair as Eren left hickeys on his neck. Back to the tempo of before, grinding naked sex on naked sex. Dirty whispers and thumbs gliding over a sticky head, and it sort of hurt when their teeth collided in a rushed attempt to muffle the cracking groan of an orgasm with an open-mouthed kiss—but only for a second or two.

“Don’t be jealous,” Eren whispered, sighing gray silk around an after-sex cigarette on the stoop in the cold. “Don’t be jealous I get it up and keep it up better than you. Be _proud_ , Jean. Because _you_ _do that to me_.”

Jean couldn’t look him in the eye at first, struck dumb and blushing and flustered. Who said that? Who in their right mind said shit like that?

Oh.

His boyfriend did. Psycho little shit.

“Promise you won’t be jealous anymore.”

“I promise.”

“L-word, stupid.”

“Yeah, l-word you too, you crazy bastard.”

 

 

**_end._ **

**Author's Note:**

> someone asked me once how to write realistic sex:
> 
>  
> 
> have lots of sex.


End file.
